


Error of the Gods

by RavennaNightcrown



Series: Songs of III-404 [1]
Category: Evillious Chronicles
Genre: Advanced Technology, Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Criminals, Body Horror, Cheating, Domestic Violence, F/F, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Multi, Parallel Universes, Prostitution, a lot of EC song references, a lot of crime stuff one would usually expect in a mafia au, differently, everything still goes wrong, some fantasy elements, vaguely follows song release order
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2019-07-08 02:34:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15921092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavennaNightcrown/pseuds/RavennaNightcrown
Summary: In this wrong world, the gears have spun so madly, weaving a fate both better and worse: the paradise that the gods tried to create did not even reach a thousand years, for there is no clockwork lullaby to save it from destruction.Alternatively, this is my attempt at a criminal/mafia-ish AU where almost everyone meets with as little magic involved as possible (but maybe a lot of fantasy) and deaths are (mostly) due to different causes.





	1. Epilogue

**Author's Note:**

> this is an AU with some fix-its so everyone will probably be OOC

This is the story of the end.

...Papa, from where shall I tell?

 

When you were gone, a man that looked like you took me in. He told me that I resembled his departed wife, and if their children were alive, his daughter would surely look as old as me.

I also met a beautiful golden-haired girl by the sea, and with glassy eyes she said I reminded her of a girl she and her brother once loved.

Ah, the sea. A legend goes that a wish in a bottle would come true. _Please, come back. Bring my parents back._

Papa, are you listening? Tell me, tell me, how was I able to live when I drowned in the middle of the free seas? How am I not dead without anyone left to love and with no one who could love _me_? You always have the answers, right?

Just like the hero in the stories you always tell me before bed, you are– you were strong. You were cunning. You were powerful. You held the law as your sword, slashing down criminals as you see fit. And yet, all it took was a single gunshot to your forehead to spell your end.

Yes, I dreamt of her once, Papa. Your killer. My own sister. But that dream was just that, a dream. I wasn’t there, you weren’t you, she wasn’t even _her_. So _why_? Why did she?

—Papa, praise me, I managed to get my hands on a treasure well-kept by the last Moonlit. Hanging round his neck, a glass bottle that gleams in the sorrowful moonlight. Papa, you told me that the Witch Queen’s Gift is very potent. Surely, with this tiny vial of death in my possession, this painful story will reach its finale.

 

And then…

...that, that girl…!

 

When the ruler of Hell released the black box of destruction, everything came to a stop.

 

And now, I will go see you.

_\- Michelle_

_12/31/300_


	2. No Utopia

_EC 300_ _  
_ _Maximum Security, Levianta State Prison Underground_

His visitor had been civil at first, but being the snake he was, he replied with a taunt. Not even the straitjacket and binds around his feet and torso could hold his quick tongue. “Why, you ask?”

“Why?” the voice was on the verge of breaking.

“Why not?” he parroted back, lacing his voice with as much mockery as he could. He hated how his one good eye still afforded him enough vision to see through the darkness. _Hey, don’t look at me with those eyes._

“Everything… you took everything from me!”

“Hah. Ha...ha, ha, ha ha ha ha! That was the plan all along, you know!” His chest and stomach were hurting from laughing too much, made worse by the ropes tied around him. _I gave you something in return, too, have you forgotten?_ “You’re so pathetic.”

The person outside the cell sniffed audibly. “I killed the one I love for you.”

He didn’t laugh this time. “It’s kind of funny that still happened in this world, huh?” he muttered through clenched teeth. His hands itched to move, he wanted to soothe the pain he felt and couldn’t. His chest was still hurting, but it was now a subdued ache thrumming throughout his consciousness. _Was I given a a heart by the gods as a sick prank—me, the unwanted serpent?_

“Stop mocking me!”

“You don’t remember, do you?” He sighed loudly, intending to rile up his visitor even more. “Of course, you don’t. How could something that never happened in this world exist in your memory?” They all knew how the story went this time: A pair of immortals, the Twin Dragons, created a millennium world in hopes of quelling their loneliness. In the new world, a criminal empire prospered under Alice Merry-Go-Round, daughter of Levia and Behemo. But he was the only one who knew of the truth of this world, the truth hidden in dreams. _This world is mine. This world is ours._

“What wrong did we ever do to you?”

He narrowed his eyes at his visitor, “Everything.” He wanted, he needed to say more. However, the words fell short on his tongue. Yes, he desired revenge. For being forgotten, for being rejected, for being abandoned, for being created… he wondered which of those had been his first driving force. He learned from years of observation that a reason for existence was needed to feel alive, which was very unlike the more primal instinct of survival he was accustomed to. He must have had something to last him this long, there must be something. _What am I here for?_ After centuries, after _her_ , he was no longer sure.  _Who am I?_

The voice resounded once more: “You sinful man, now, repent.”

He smirked. “This isn’t how the Third Period is supposed to end, you know?” _Hell, the Second Period didn’t even end the way it should have._

He could see the gleam of her tears in the darkness. “Farewell, Seth Twiright.”

BANG!

In those very few milliseconds, his brain went into overdrive. _She will do it She will she will she will she will recreate the Hellish Yard Do it Do it do it do it everything everything destroy destroy destroy destroy everything destroy the paradise you created!_

She once told him that one’s life will flash before their eyes right when they’re about to die, and Seth saw one thing only, a realization of a dream: destruction.

He would never see it, but he knew. She would open his parting gift, and be his accomplice once more in going against the original will of the gods. The seeds of malice he had long planted will come to fruition, albeit differently. The irregular notes and ripples of the clockwork lullaby will not resound this time. Just the way things should be.

There will be no such thing as utopia. No reset, no afterlife, no escape route.

_I am the Master of the True End._

 

 _In this world, I have won._ _—Or was it_ him _, the other_ me _?_


	3. The Witch Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up, I revised the earlier chapters. A lot.

_EC 258_ _  
_ _Alicegrad, Levianta_

“Prince! I’m tired~~! Ain’t we there yet?”

Alexiel sighed. He tugged on his ragged cloak to hide his face further before reprimanding his bodyguard, “Chartette, please, shush.”

His pink-haired companion, who wore a green wig and donned the same getup as him, continued to ramble on as if he didn’t say anything. “But Prince, we’ve been walking since sundown!”

He was starting to regret letting Chartette accompany him on Riliane’s request—or rather, order. If this girl wasn’t a dear friend to the twins, Riliane would have already sliced her head off before she could even apologize for a broken mirror. _If only she was more like Ney._

“Hey Prince, you think the Princess will forgive me once we get back?” Chartette suddenly asked. She was fiddling with her hair, a habit that Alexiel swore he doesn’t remember her having. “I didn’t mean to break her tea set last time, and she looked furious and maybe if I got you out alive here then—”

“Stop.”

Chartette was taken aback. “Prince, I’m—I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to guilt—”

He dragged Chartette into a dark alley, and placed his hand over her mouth. “Shhh.” Their ruckus was starting to attract eyes, eyes that glinted with the malice typical of Evillious’ underground. But Alexiel knew that even Levianta’s most notorious won’t touch them, not with the current Queen. Even the terror called Apocalypse quieted down when she took the helm of the Leviantan Mafia. The Queen’s idiosyncrasies provided a kind of protection, which the Prince of the Lucifenia Group thoroughly exploited. With his unassuming shirt and trousers—he has never been more thankful for his fashion choices—and the _awful_ green wig Mariam forced him to wear, he could somehow pass as a poor Elphe child. He could only hope that Chartette’s personality contributed to their act. After all, Levianta was not known for its hospitality to _their kind_ of strangers.

“Alexiel,” she whispered. _She actually knows how to do that!_ “Didn’t you say we’re safe with these disguises?”

“With you calling me Prince every now and then, I think even the most stupid street rat can figure us out.” Alexiel looked around the street and saw a path of flowers— _were those green roses?_ —that led to a tree with red fruits, and men and women casually chatting by the stone benches with their rifles and switch knives on full display. Alicegrad really was a city with two personalities: a bustling cultural center by day, the capital of a criminal empire by night.

“Ain’t that the meeting spot over there? The tree?”

“I don’t think those fruits are apples, Chartette.”

“Ain’t they the only red fruits in the world?”

“Cherries, pomegranates, raspberries—”

“‘Kay, ‘kay! I get it. I’m just sayin’!”

The two of them proceeded to go to the other end of the alley. _Just another turn, a left, and then an apple tree beside an antique clockmaker’s shop._ “There it is. Clockworker Crafts.” And as their contact promised, there was a large tree heavy with apples beside the small shop, it was so tall that it practically hid the establishment in its shadow. “Let’s go, he is supposed to rendezvous with us under the tree.”

A flash of lightning streaked against the night sky. Chartette held on to him as thunder soon rumbled. “H-hey, Alexiel, is this really the place? We’ve been standing here for forever already. I have a bad feeling about this.”

“It’s been _five_ minutes. Besides, I thought you were the one who’s supposed to protect me. What am I going to say to Riliane when we get back?”

Chartette stomped her foot angrily. “That’s low! You’re just like her, no, even worse! I like Riliane better!”

“Sorry, sorry. But,” he looked up at Levianta’s sky, “I do think it’s unusual for a thunderstorm to occur with this many stars.” He felt up the rings he hid in his pocket for some semblance of reality, proof that he was and still is Alexiel.

Another lightning strike. Another roar of thunder. Chartette shrieked. “Alexiel! We must have been played!”

“Chartette!” he hissed. “Keep it down will you? For on a dark night such as this…”

“A witch comes out to steal children.”

Alexiel turned his head so fast he almost thought he’d get whiplash. “Y-you!” In his peripheral vision, he could see Chartette get into a fighting stance.

“Heh, I thought the Prince of Lucifenia was blond, just like our own prince.”

He relaxed a bit at the dark-skinned man’s comment, even when it was supposed to be a jab at his current appearance. “Zero?” The man wore a well-tailored dark gray suit, something that only someone very brave or very stupid would dare wear when in mugger territory.

“The one and only,” Zero grinned. “Zero is the Queen’s nickname. Her husband prefers Bruno. You’re free to call me anywhat.”

“Prince, is it him?”

He signaled Chartette to relax her stance. “How long have you been there?”

“I was here since sundown. I had a hard time recognizing you because of the hair.” Zero went closer to ruffle his already out-of-place wig.

“Please stop that,” he gritted through his teeth. “Are we going now?”

“As you wish.” Zero gestured for the both of them to follow him, and he led them to a sleek black car parked right across the antique shop. “The Moonlit estate is just a few minutes away.”

****

 _Zero is a horrible driver,_ Alexiel thought. “A few minutes away, my ass. You can’t just compress a two hour drive into minutes by going way beyond the speed limit!”

“Hey, the Queen is my boss. She doesn’t mind as long as I get her to places early.” Zero paused, presumably for effect. “Though that was Adam’s fault. He prefers me to be on the so-called lawful side, and when he told the Queen that it was inappropriate to intentionally go for the slowest route just so she could sleep longer on the way, she retaliated by ordering me to go to the other extreme.” He laughed. “Petty couple.”

“Man, mafia families are such a clusterfuck.”

“Pardon??”

Zero laughed again. “Who knew that two of the Lucifenia Group’s most valuable assets would be children? It makes me feel old you know? I don’t even know what the Queen must feel. Everyone in the Leviantan Mafia’s upper echelons is at least a century old.”

“Eh, so the stories are true? The Moonlits and Barisols are…” Chartette glanced at him.

“Anyways, you’re both lucky that the Queen forbids any assault on children.”

“We are no longer children!”

“Well you are pretending to be just then. And you did it well. For twenty-five year olds.”

“I’m thirty-six.”

“Whatever. Anyways, I highly suggest that the Prince take off his wig before we get to the mansion,” Zero said as looked at them from the rearview mirror. “You may have known about the Queen’s weird rule, but you missed out on a vital info: she only has a soft spot for green-haired female kids and blue-haired male kids.”

Alexiel sighed in relief as he removed the wig and adjusted his ponytail. _Who knew the Queen had to be so specific?_ Feeling that all other disguises would be futile, he took the signet rings in his pocket and wore them on his left ring and pinky fingers: a golden rose and a golden dragon. _I am more than just her younger brother._

“Oh shit.”

“Why?”

Zero hit the brakes. “I don’t think she’d like your golden hair either. The prince just ran away a few years ago, and,” now he turned to face Alexiel, “you look just like him.”

****

No armed personnel received them when they arrived at the Moonlit estate. The main mansion was a palace, though not as big and grand as the Lucifenia Group’s headquarters. On its right was another building that looked like a temple with its numerous pillars. But what struck Alexiel the most were not these impressive structures. It was the quaint cottage in the far-off distance surrounded by trees. _Why is something like that existing in the same plot of land?_

“Come on, the Queen is waiting,” Zero said as he opened the large doors to the Moonlits’ main mansion. The halls were so bright and the ceiling was so high, Alexiel thought that this place must be a second sky where gods resided. They followed their escort into another hallway that led to another door, this one with gilded handles. “Wait a minute, I need to check for security,” he said, and gave the two of them a quick pat down. “You did not carry any weapons or even a phone?”

“No.”

“What the…” He looked at them incredulously. “Hah... Let’s go, she’s in there.”

Alexiel stopped Chartette from entering. “Stay out here. This meeting is confidential.”

“B-but…” his pink-haired companion tried to break free from his grip, but soon conceded. “Fine, but if anything happens, you know what to do. I promised the Princess your safety.”

“I know.” And he followed Zero into the Queen’s private audience chamber as the doors shut behind them.

 

“My Queen, the Prince of Lucifenia is here,” Zero announced.

“Very well,” the Queen replied. Even with her back to them as she looked out a window, her long green hair was a dead giveaway that she was of Elphe heritage. _Probably has something to do with the Levianta-Elphegort Mafia alliance._ She wore a black gown made of felt, and a navy blue waistcoat that seemed to function as a makeshift corset. Truly fitting for the Witch Queen of the Leviantan Mafia. The Queen turned and began to walk towards them.

_This—That can’t be right! Her face…! No way!_

When their gazes met, the Queen’s familiar serene face contorted into something that has no place in Evillious’ underground. Grief. “Hänsel!” The Queen rushed to embrace him, “You came back!”

Shocked stiff in the Queen’s tight hold, Alexiel could barely form a coherent thought. _Hänsel? Who is that, wait, is he the prince Zero told me about? What the fuck. Why is this happening to me? Who the hell is this woman?! Oh no, she’s crying. This wasn’t part of the plan. Am I high? I don’t even do drugs._

“My Queen, please calm down!” Zero shouted. He tried to untangle Alexiel from the Queen’s arms, “He is not your son.”

“W-what?”

“This boy is one of the heads of the Lucifenia Group, Alexiel Lucif, Riliane Roses’ grandson,” the Queen’s attendant explained. “You are to meet with him for an important transaction.”

The Queen looked at Alexiel, and then stepped back as if burned. “Ah, yes. What an uncanny resemblance.” She laughed, too cheerfully to pass as sincere, as if she weren’t sobbing just seconds ago. “You may take your leave now.”

Zero glanced at Alexiel, and then back at the Queen. “Please be careful.” And then he left.

She wiped the tears dry from her pallid cheeks. “Ah, where were we?” She smiled at him, but it was so obviously forced he wondered how she was able to reign at the top of Levianta’s criminal empire for more than a century. “Now, what can I do for you, Dragon Candidate?”

“You know what I came here for.”

“Not even reacting to that, hm? I trust that you twins are not plotting to steal my children’s place?”

“Lucifenia is more than enough for our indulgence.” _So Levianta is still wary of our existence._ But that was not the most pressing matter in Alexiel’s mind. “Why do you have the exact same face as Michaela Arklow?”

“Why don’t you ask her?”

“What an uncanny resemblance.” The words came out of his mouth before he could even think it. _Shit. I wish she isn’t as volatile as Riliane._

The Queen only giggled.

“Um, your Majesty. I think we should get on with the deal.”

“You have deposited the money to our accounts, right? Give me a few minutes.” The Queen left the room through another door, leaving Alexiel to regain his bearings.

Without her presence, he was able to breathe more freely. _Michaela, just how are you related to the underground?_ Alexiel paced around the room to get rid of the tension in his body. The Queen’s private audience chamber was simpler than the mansion’s hallways. Only a few couches and a single table in the center. The walls, however, were another thing entirely. From each of its four walls hung a large portrait the size of a floor-to-ceiling window. Even their own Lucif Mansion which was known for its excessive grandeur used portraits sparingly.

The one right across the entrance was a family portrait. In the center was a throne where a veiled woman sat, her long blue hair flowing down in waves.  A small red cat peeked out from her shoulder, its bright yellow eyes looking straight at the viewer. Standing on each of her sides was a blond woman wearing a lab coat over a wool sweater and a man—that person was a man he was sure, he had seen this person before in Lucifenia—wearing a maid dress. Standing behind her was a beautiful woman with the same blond hair as the previous two, only longer and wavier, with a sly smile that he could have sworn he had seen before in Enbizaka. Sitting by the veiled woman’s feet were a man and a woman: the man had the same blue hair as her, while the woman looked exactly like the Witch Queen. She even wore the same gown with the same star-and-moon coat brooch attached to her waistcoat. Sitting one level between the two were two children who looked just like him and Riliane when they were younger. _What the fuck._ His eyes traveled to the bottom of the painting for an explanation, and there it was: _Glory of Levianta._ It was signed finished in EC 218.

The one to his right was someone who looked like the Queen again. This time she was wearing a vibrant green gown, and her companion was a man dressed like Elphegort’s upper class. _Gilbert Calgaround and his wife, Mikulia. EC 27._ The next portrait was a surrealist—or whatever Kyle calls it—rendition of a thief climbing a tower. The thief’s face was not clear, but Alexiel was sure of who it belongs to, even though she was alone this time. _Phantom Thief Platonic. EC 100._ And the last one was something everyone alive in Evillious has seen at least once in the news: the CEO of Yggdra Pharmaceuticals, Inc., and her philandering husband. _The Blankenheims. EC 248._

“Enjoying the free art show?”

“U-uh…!” This woman had a way of breaking his composure. “You-Your Majesty, what are these?”

“Isn’t it normal to keep trophies of your exploits? I’ve heard that your sister keeps embalmed heads in one of her rooms, surely that is more morbid than this.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

The Queen clapped her hands together and said, “Ah! Let’s get to business now, shall we?” She grabbed his hand and placed a glass bottle in it. “Be careful with it.”

He gulped. He looked at the bottle in his hand, it was opaque and tinted with a purple hue. _Riliane, you do know that an untraceable death would only be traced back to us, right?_ “Understood.” His hands were shaking, truly embarrassing. The past few months were confusing, he felt as if there was a sinister secret lurking inside their mansion’s walls, and his sister was no longer the open book he thought she was. This transaction with the Queen only served to stoke his unease. The drug he was ordered to claim cost the Lucifenia Group millions of Evs, topped with another million to bypass Millennium Forest’s infamous queue.

If Riliane really knew who Kyle’s lover was, she wouldn’t go through these lengths just to erase a civilian, _if she really was one_. The Marlon head was a fickle and restless man. He’d grow tired of Michaela soon, and then it will be Alexiel’s turn with her.

“Calm down.” She held his still trembling hands in her calloused ones. Her rings shone in his eyes: a moonstone ring and one with a star-cut diamond. No dragons, no indicator that she was the chosen mother. Even in their family, it was his father who held the two dragon signet rings, which he got from his mother, which was said to be even passed down from a great-grandmother, although none of them ever wore them before him and Riliane.

“I’m alright, I was just thinking about stuff.” He glanced at the glass bottle again.

The Queen spoke gently: “It’s not Gift.”

He sighed in relief.

“It’s Venom, the brainwashing drug.”

“What?!”

“You didn’t know?”

He coughed. _Seriously, Riliane?_ “Of course I knew. I just didn’t know it was packaged like this.” He looked at the Queen, and then at the wall. _She was totally not convinced._

“Anyway, send my regards to the Princess,” the Queen started as she escorted him outside. “Zero!”

Hurried footsteps were heard outside the room. “Yes, My Queen?”

“Escort the Prince outside, please,” she ordered, and began to walk to her spot by the window. “Ah! Before I forget,” she turned to Alexiel, her blue-green eyes gleaming coldly, “Lord Behemo also sends his regards.”

“Wait!”

“Hm?”

“Will this really work?”

The Queen’s eyebrows knit together in an indignant expression. “Of course it will. I refined my father’s already excellent formula, it will surely work on anyone and everyone. It’s a very effective drug.” She pursed her lips, and instructed: “For best results, just make sure to have the intended ingest everything. Be in a place where you wouldn’t be disturbed, and once the intended starts waking up after dozing off or becomes dazed, tell them what you want them to do or believe. Your words should make it seem as if they had always been true. Say, you want a woman to fall in love with you.”

 _Michaela._ “Yes?”

“You should go about it by telling her, ‘You still love me, right?’ Their mental state and memory-making capacity is pliant, therefore you should make it seem as if they forgot something or had just spaced out.”

“Thank you for entertaining my question, Your Majesty.” _Poor Kyle._ He inwardly grinned. _You must face the consequences of my sister’s envy. Well, my Michaela is very beautiful. It would actually be an insult if you never noticed her._

“Oh! Wait.” The Queen stooped to his height and held his face with her cold hands. “I guess I’ll tell you something,” she said, smiling widely until her eyes became slits. She came closer and whispered in his ear, “It will work on anyone except us with the blood of Held.”

“Uh, we leavin’?” Chartette called out, her head popping out from the doorway.

“Y-yes. I’m going.” Alexiel bowed his head. Ever since their parents’ death, no one showed him that much affection in just one gesture. Even Riliane could only do so much. “Thank you for your time.”

“It’s nothing,” she replied, and went back to look outside her window as if waiting for someone who will never return.

 

“So, what happened?” Zero asked.

“I’m not sure to be honest.”

“The Queen has that effect on people.”

“Yeah.” _Her appearance alone caught me off-guard._

“What’s that you’re holdin’? S’that the drug?”

He promptly wrapped a handkerchief around the vial of Venom. “Nothing you should know.” Those thirty minutes with the Queen felt like eternities, and lethargy is steadily creeping into his flesh and bones. “Let’s just go home, Chartette.” His eyelids can barely keep themselves up.

“I can give you a ride home.”

That jolted Alexiel awake. “Really?” Right after saying that, he regretted it. What kind of mafia boss readily drops their guard to someone neither friend nor foe?

“Only up to Rolled’s border,” Zero clarified. “I cannot risk being shot at by your men even while driving a police car.”

“That makes sense. You part of Levianta’s police?”

Zero smirked. “The Mafia must always have a hold on law and order, in daylight and in the shadows.”

Before Alexiel knew it, they were outside of the mansion and in Zero’s police car. “Hey, what is the house back there, the one in the distance?”

After a pregnant silence, Zero spoke: “It’s an important and sacred place. That’s all I know.”

“Mmmm…”

 

Someone was shaking him wildly. “Hey, Prince, wake up.” That was Chartette’s voice. “We’re here.”

He covered his face with his arm, the sunlight being a bit too harsh for his tired eyes. ”Morning already? How long was I out?”

“Seven hours?”

“You were awake all throughout?”

“I promised your safety.”

“Fine, fine.” His muscles hurt from not moving for so long, especially because he slept in a sitting position the whole time from Alicegrad to Rolled. “Mmm. No one attacked us?” _If any of those idiots did, they are really going to get it. Riliane will fuck them over twice and behead them after I kill them from the other side._ He shuddered. In disgust or in excitement, he wasn’t that sure.

“Thankfully, your bodyguard here announced herself right as we passed through the border,” Zero explained from the driver’s seat.

“Ahh, good.” He forced himself to stand up and go outside to where Chartette is. Closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, Alexiel allowed himself a few seconds of calm. _This is where I belong, what is here is mine. Lucifenia._ “You have my gratitude, Zero.”

The Queen’s attendant nodded at him and swiftly drove away.

“Chartette! Call Mariam and inform the mansion of our arrival,” he ordered.

“Yessir!”

With Chartette gone, he went to sit at a bench in the plaza, taking up the entire space with his arms and legs as if he owned it. And that claim was practically true, he was the Prince of the Lucifenia Group after all. Everything, everything here was his. And Riliane’s. He closed his eyes knowing that Chartette will take a while, might as well steal a nap and bask in the morning sun while at it. _Should I go see Michaela before leaving?_ “Ughh, maybe not. I look unpresentable.” He hears Chartette’s footsteps returning. “What is it?”

“Uhh…”

“Speak up.”

“Do you have some loose change?”

“Of course not. Just show a shop owner somewhere there your ring and tell them you need a phone.”

“Well…”

He sat up. “Don’t tell me you lost it.”

“I didn’t!” Chartette raised her palms in defense. “I just forgot and left it in the mansion!”

Alexiel sighed. “Fine, just this once.” He took the signet ring from his finger, the one signifying his connection to the Lucifenia Group: a golden rose. “Return it to me immediately,” he focused his gaze at Chartette as he put the ring in her palm, “or else.”

Chartette broke out in a run.

A limo soon arrived just as his bodyguard came back gasping, her arm outstretched to return the ring.

****

_Lucif Mansion, Lucifenian_

A barrage of greetings from armed men and women woke him once they arrived. “Welcome back, Prince Alexiel!”

“Yeah, I’m back. Where’s my sister?”

“Up there,” Mariam, his late father’s most loyal retainer and chief assassin, now the twins’ trusted aide, answered. “Also, Chartette, follow me. I have a new assignment for you.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

He knew there was only one place Riliane would go to in times like these. “Thank you, Miss Mariam.”

Mariam looked back at him, her silver eyes filled with concern. “Go to her now.”

He watched Mariam’s form disappear with Chartette, and then ran up to the mansion’s rooftop gardens, clutching the bottle of Venom in his pocket for safety, only to be distracted by a tall man carrying something enormous down one of the stairways.

“Sir Leonhart!” he called out. Leonhart, also one of his father’s retainers—whose loyalty truly belonged to his mother, Anne—was carrying a large gilded mirror. “Stop, wait. I said stop!” The man still didn’t respond. “LEONHART!”

“Alexiel?” Leonhart exclaimed. “You’re back already?”

“What do you think you’re doing? That’s Riliane’s favorite!” He pointed at the older man accusingly. Riliane and Leonhart were never on the best of terms, but stealing from your own is frowned upon in the mafia, even more so when it’s from the daughter of your former boss.

“The Princess herself ordered me to deliver this as a gift.”

“A gift? What? For who?” He’s been gone for only two days and yet here he was, thoroughly disoriented by everything. “Riliane doesn’t even _share_.” Despite being her own twin brother, he was only a recipient of the Princess’s very few and very minor generosities. And that was already lucky compared to other ones on Riliane’s list of exceptions: Chartette, Ney, Mariam at times, and even Leonhart when she was in a positively exceptional mood. His only other consolation was that at least a lot of those few generosities involve food.

Leonhart shrugged, or at least attempted to with the weight he was currently carrying. “I was only given an address.”

“Where? Ugh, never mind.” Frustrated, Alexiel left the perplexed man and ran up the staircase leading to his sister.

 

As expected, his sister was in the Heavenly Yard, aptly named for its grand setup: a vast garden filled with various flowers situated at the mansion’s rooftop, representative of the hubris the Lucifenia Group was known for. Riliane leaned over the garden’s edge with her back to him, her frilly black and yellow dress billowing in the wind. Her golden hair was set in a braided updo, with a jeweled comb as a finishing touch. “Riliane.”

His sister stood straight and faced him. “Allen, you’re back!” She smiled warmly, or as warmly as she could, Alexiel noted, for it did not quite reach her blue eyes.

 _That name again._ “I have what you requested.”

Riliane sighed mournfully, which was very uncharacteristic for the Princess who owned the Lucifenia Group. “There has been a change of plans.”

“Huh?!”

“The Venom is not for Kyle anymore.”


	4. All That Glitters

_EC 258_ _  
_ _Rolled, Lucifenia_

Alexiel parked his car right in front on the entrance of the Rolled Performing Arts Theatre and waited for the musical performance to end. The girl who had been the object of his obsession for over two years now was the star and diva of the Theatre, one of the Lucifenia Group’s—the legal side, that is—many beneficiaries. He adjusted his cuffs, which were still a bit bloody from some last-minute damage control. It was already the eve of their birthday, and he had to deal with the rumors circulating in the streets about Riliane’s illicit affairs. _Very bad for business._ Alexiel was counting on just a glimpse, _just the slightest glimpse of her will do_ , to compensate for his hard work and to have as an early birthday gift.

Majority of the Theatre’s patrons belonged to the upper class: those lucky enough to secure nice-paying jobs offered by the Lucifenia Group’s various companies, and those filthy rich stuck-ups that Alexiel had no choice but to deal with during board meetings. And it just so happens that he would have to endure their sons and daughters’ pointless chatter tomorrow at his birthday party, their endless fake smiles and flirtations meant to curry his and Riliane’s favor.

He heard a loud round of applause. “Ah, finally.” His eyes skimmed through the flood of people exiting the theatre for the green-haired beauty he came for. It’s been weeks since he last saw her. _Is she avoiding me?_ A knock at his car’s window interrupted his search. Alexiel rolled down the tinted window irritably, “What is it, Mayrana?”

A stately brunette answered, “Sorry, sir, but… Miss Michaela is currently not here.” Mayrana Blossom, the Theatre’s proprietress, was an affluent civilian with enough knowledge of the underground to know how to protect her business. She was well aware of Alexiel’s identity, and smart enough to accommodate the wants of the most powerful person in Lucifenia.

At first, Alexiel had his qualms about her motivations with whispers saying she suddenly sprouted up in Lucifenia, buying out the Milanais Theatre from its bankruptcy, even reinstating its name from the olden Beelzenia days. Moreover, while he was away, Mayrana had been at the center of a controversy over her uncanny resemblance to the infamous Red, an issue the Lucifenia Group had wanted to quickly nip in the bud in light of Levianta’s might and fury. The discovery that a lot of the Beelzenias shared the resemblance brought her under fire, but fortunately for the businesswoman, Mariam hadn’t dug up any dirt connecting her to Lucifenia’s rivals.

The Group settled with Ney’s explanation that there really are people sharing the same appearances, that it was something the gods themselves had planned. _Bullshit._ Still, Alexiel had accepted that lame explanation, choosing to believe that Mayrana was just a very rich civilian who knew her trade and had the misfortune of having been born with the same face as an infamous criminal and as the Beelzenia fools.

“What do you mean?” His fingers tapped impatiently on the steering wheel.

“Her performances for the last month were few and far inbetween due to um, some personal circumstances. And,” she took a deep breath, “she has been refusing to stay after her performances.” Mayrana’s eyes flitted from place to place, never meeting his. As much as he wanted to strangle her for not being able to convince Michaela otherwise, he owed her still for his being acquainted with the diva. There is also the issue of Michaela’s impression of him. “Her brother has also requested to not allow anyone in during her rehearsals.”

“Really now?” As Mayrana droned on with even more excuses, Alexiel was already planning a one-on-one talk with Michaela’s brother, whoever that bastard may be. He never expected that _he_ was going to be _such_ a pain in the neck. “If only I knew where she lived...”

“I’m really sorry, sir,” Mayrana repeated, bowing deeply. Her apologies were cut off as Alexiel rolled the window up and stepped on the gas, speeding off into the night.

 

On the road, Alexiel reminisced about their first meeting. It was the autumn of EC 256 then, him having just returned from his training in Enbizaka. Riliane had commissioned the Theatre for a performance celebrating his return after two long years. That time, Alexiel had felt so important, _needed_ . Like he wasn’t just the spare. Riliane cherished him, the household adored him, their men looked up to him. Even Ney had sent him her regards despite treating him coldly for the past decade. And then the performance began _—_

“The Rolled Performing Arts Theatre presents…! Michaela Arklow, Lucifenia’s one and only Diva!”

The green-haired diva walked to the center of the stage, right in front of where Alexiel was from the VIP seats. She raised her head and began to sing, “Under the third moon, gathered around a great tree~”

When their eyes met, Alexiel swore that they did, he knew it was fate. _It was love at first sight_ . It wasn’t just her eyes that captivated him. Her voice, her face, her hair, her _everything_.  Before he knew it, the curtain was coming down to a close and the audience—which consisted of a few men of the Group Riliane had personally picked to accompany him—broke out into applause. Alexiel stood up from his seat and strode towards the Theatre’s owner, who was watching the performance from the farthest aisle. “Madam, can I have the pleasure of knowing Miss Michaela backstage?”

The woman calmly turned her head towards him, too indifferently that it irritated him. “Hmm…” She gave him a once over, her eyes widening briefly before going back to their relaxed expression. “Follow me.”

He was led backstage, past a small door by the side of the stage and into a corridor. They walked and walked in silence until the owner stopped in front of a door with a sign that read “Michaela Arklow”. _Her dressing room._

The owner knocked thrice, “Michaela.”

The door opened immediately. “Madam Mayrana~!” the diva called out cheerily, skipping up to the other woman to clasp her hands excitedly. “How was it? Hm~ did I do well? Did I? Did I?”

“Yes, yes. Now, calm down, Michaela,” Mayrana looked over at Alexiel, “you have an admir- a visitor.”

Michaela looked over from the proprietress’ shoulder curiously, her green eyes meeting with him for the second time that night. “A new patron?”

“Be nice to him,” she whispered, too loud for him not to hear. The owner led him inside, “Please make yourself at ease.”

Mayrana left the two of them alone soon after that. It also didn’t escape his notice that the door was closed. _No, no, no, Alexiel,_ his thoughts—the more rational ones—reprimanded. _Don’t disappoint the dead._ The air was now too tense to ignore. _Say something, you idiot._ “Hey, that was a wonderful performance.”

“Thank you, sir~!” She clapped her hands together and smiled brightly, her eyes forming arches. “I’m really glad you appreciated it!” Up close, she appeared to be glowing even. A person this beautiful must definitely be an illegal existence.

“Just call me Alexiel. We’re not that far apart in age anyway.”

Michaela giggled softly, the sounds coming out he likened to the soft peals of bells. “Okay, Alexiel.” She giggled after still, as if she was holding in laughter. For some reason, that also brought a smile to his face.

“Hey, are you—” he cleared his throat before continuing, “how are you going home tonight? It’s already late, I can give you a ride.”

“Oh no! I can’t possibly, sir! That would be too much to ask— I…” She averted her eyes. “My brother will be fetching me.”

“Back to ‘sir’ again, huh? Now, I might not take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“Oops~ Ha, ha,” she laughed. “I’m really sorry Alexiel, but, my brother really rea~lly won’t like it if I told anyone our address.” Michaela bowed her head, “Sorry.”

“Now, that’s better.” Her brother must be terribly overprotective, and Allen couldn’t help but concede. Despite being the younger sibling, he took it upon himself to watch over Riliane. His sister was the only reason he endured exclusion for the past two years—yes, he had a guardian of sorts during those hard times, but that poor lonely woman who treated him like her own son will never weigh as much as the girl that shared the same blood and womb as him. His sister treated him quite terribly to be honest, but she was the only one he had after what happened to their parents, and he had missed Riliane’s antics dearly. Michaela blinked at him. “Fuck,” he swore under his breath, hoping she didn’t hear. He’d been staring at her for Behemo knows how long while reminiscing about his cursed life. He waved at her awkwardly and turned to walk out the door, “See you around, then.”

 

He had watched her every performance since then. And he had always stayed, hoping that maybe one night, she’d change her mind. Everything was going well for the Prince, even if things weren’t really progressing between the two of them. All was well until he found that she was the one who incurred Riliane’s infamous ire for seducing the Marlon Mafia’s head into breaking off his engagement with the criminal Princess. Michaela was supposed to be assassinated, if only anyone from the Group could figure out that it was her who took Kyle Marlon’s fancy. Thankfully, Riliane aborted the order after subsequent failures to uncover her identity, her reason finally clearing up the fog of her jealousy. _If only my sister knew that it was her attempt to get in Kyle’s good graces that led to him meeting Michaela… Even more so had she known that I knew, and that she was looking in the wrong place?_

He sighed deeply. “No early birthday present for me then.” His mind wandered to his sister. _How is Riliane going to spend our birthday?_ Knowing Riliane Lucif, the firstborn of Arth, she would make sure that the party was as grand and luxurious as it could possibly be. But what really piqued his curiosity was Riliane’s mysterious paramour, if the rumors were believed to be true. The recipient of Riliane’s _favorite_ mirror, her changing her mind about Venom. All things pointed to the veracity of the disgraceful claim. _Would they make an appearance at the party?_ That would be truly scandalous. Such a thing was not uncommon in the mafia nor in the circles of the filthy rich, but it was a juicy fruit that the media and the common folk would greedily gobble up. However, Alexiel would not put it past his sister to make a stupid decision such as parading her lover _while being publicly engaged to another_. After all, the stage was set: Leonhart told him that neither Kyle nor anyone from the Marlon Mafia was in the guest list, and everyone knew that Lucifenia’s Princess craved attention.

“Heh, how I would love to see Kyle’s humiliated face.” Oh, how he hated the blue-haired man’s guts. The audacity to hunt in their territory! And Michaela nonetheless. Alexiel sincerely hoped that the bastard would get a taste of his own medicine. Soon, he was pulling up his car in the Lucif Mansion’s driveway, internally thanking his muscle memory for keeping him alive during most of the duration of that drive. Even through the car’s tinted windows, Alexiel could see that the lights were still on. Everyone was still up and about preparing for tomorrow’s grand celebration.

He got out of his car and started to walk leisurely towards the mansion. However—

“Hey~! Alexiel!” _Michaela?!_

“H-hey,” he stuttered out. _My wish just got granted._ He cleared his throat. “Michaela! What are you doing here?” He smiled at her, his muscles relaxing from the frustration he had accumulated for the past few hours.

“Ah! Ha, ha ha!” she laughed in between giggles. Her vibrant green hair was tied messily in twin tails, quite a deviation from her prim and proper persona. Alexiel honestly thought that she looked quite disheveled. Oh, how he would like to see _this_ Michaela more, even more so when he was the cause. “How about you? Do you work here?”

“I live here.”

“Really~? I didn’t know.” Michaela giggled again, every flutter of her delicate eyelids giving off the illusion of stars sparkling in her eyes.

He gave her another once over, from her pretty green eyes, down to her luscious lips, until his eyes finally settled on her chest hidden by her dark green collared dress—which did a horrible job at it. “Hey, your buttons are done all wrong.”

“Oh!” Michaela yelped, looking quite flustered, her cheeks being tinted with a pink accentuating her natural blush. His imagination was going in less than decent directions. Michaela undid the buttons on her dress, her hands trembling just the slightest bit, and buttoned it up carefully.

Alexiel’s eyes greedily took in every inch of flesh his eyes can land on throughout the whole ordeal. He came to the conclusion that this sight would be ten times more preferable if she was underneath him. He swallowed. “Michaela…”

The embarrassed diva quickly recovered and composed herself, and then went to run past him, waving, “See you around, Alexiel!”

He waved back at her and watched her slender form become smaller and disappear from his field of vision. He grinned, the Queen’s taunt now a faraway memory, “What a beautiful night it is.”

 

Once Alexiel got inside the mansion, he wanted to eat his words back. Everyone in the foyer, those who were preparing for tomorrow, looked at him as if they were expecting him to say or do something, anything. Mariam, especially, seemed to be expecting something from him. “What?”

The response he got was silence and bated breath. _What secrets is this household still hiding from me?_

He repeated, “What is it?” If his glare was not enough to force an answer, then maybe a knife would do the trick. He prepared to reach into the sheath attached to his belt when Minis, the Group’s executive secretary, spoke:

“Have you seen her?” For this spineless coward of a man to be the one to answer him, with a question nonetheless, Alexiel felt that there was something wrong. Something _very_ wrong.

“Your sister’s woman,” Mariam spat.

“Riliane’s…? Riliane has—?” _So the rumors are true?!_

“She just left a while ago. There’s no way you could have not seen her.” The silver-haired woman’s eyes were cast to the floor, but he knew that she was holding back from straight up yelling; he could taste her cold rage tainting the air.

“I have seen her…?” _Wait a minute._ _Hell no._ ** _NO._** “This can’t be.” The floor tiles shifted, their cream and black colors swirling into a something that vaguely reminded him of black boxes and laboratories, murmurs blending until they sounded like laughter. “Where the fuck is Riliane?!” He could hear Mariam in the background praising him for attempting to talk some sense into his sister, but that wasn’t what he intended to do.

“Uh, in her room,” Minis answered.

Alexiel dashed up the grand staircase leading to the master bedroom. _She can’t keep on taking what’s supposed to be mine._ Upon reaching his destination, he pushed open the heavy mahogany doors and prepared himself for the bitter truth.

 

“RILIANE! You—” There he was greeted by the very unwelcome sight of Riliane lounging on her king-sized bed in a state of undress. He averted his eyes and threw a knife at her bedside, feeling some kind of satisfaction when she yelped right when he heard the sound of metal digging into wood. “Get dressed.”

“What is wrong with you?!” Riliane roared, throwing the knife back at him and intentionally missing. _You should have aimed better at her,_ an ugly voice whispered. He heard clothes shuffling, and assuming she was decent, turned to look at her. She was glowering at him while combing her long golden hair. “You could have killed me!”

“If I really wanted to, I would have,” he growled. “I just wanted to talk.”

“Ah, your definition of talking then is violence? How intelligent of you, Allen.”

“Don’t pretend you are any better than me,” he bit back.

Her scowl deepened. “What do you want to talk about, Allen?”

“Alexiel! My name _is_ Alexiel, Riliane! I have a name, stop calling me by that… cursed name,” he paused to regain his breath, “I am not a common servant, and much less yours!” She probably doesn’t know, or remember, but once, when they were thirteen, he heard her call out that horrid name in her sleep. It had been three nights after their parents’ tragic and untimely death, and their abrupt succession. They slept in the same bed then, both afraid of the nightmare of seeing Arth and Anne’s smiling faces only to wake with them gone.

 _Hee hee~_ Alexiel had jolted awake then. _...Interesting. His name is Allen?_ He tried to wake Riliane up, scared shitless that she might be going insane, or if it was _him_ that was. But Riliane wasn’t asleep, her blue eyes looked straight into his, and her delicate hand reached out to him. _He looks just like me!_ As if talking to another, she looked beside her and said, _If he’s a servant, then it shouldn’t be a problem if I take him?_ His sister continued on babbling nonsense, _a servant that had the same face as me? Oh ho ho ho, no other monarch can boast of that marvel, I’m sure,_ and he couldn’t even remember how he was able to fall asleep then. But the night after that, he was sure he had slept alone, preferring to relive the sight of his father’s bloody corpse and hearing his mother’s gentle lullaby over and over than be caught in his twin’s delusions.

“Well, then, _Alexiel_ , what in the world do you want?” she huffed.

 _Shit._ He racked his mind for what a rational person would say, what would Mariam say—but her approach didn’t work, so maybe Chartette—what would his mother say, his father? _How would Ney deal with this? Behemo, help me._ “What you’re doing is wrong.”

“Pardon?”

“I said, you must stop your affair with Michaela.”

Riliane’s expression hardened. “Did Mariam call you to lecture me?” She pointed toward the door, “Get out.”

“This is too low, sister, even for you,” he paused to moisten his lips, “You despaired over Kyle’s infidelity and now you’re using his—”

His half-baked reprimand was cut short by Riliane leaping towards him, her teeth bared and her fist threatening to close on his throat: “ _You knew._ ” Her breath reeked of blood, and he could feel her rage boiling. “You knew and you didn’t tell me.” And then she choked him with one strong hand.

He clawed at her hands, and after a while she let go. “She was— she was a civilian,” he managed to say in between gasps. Not that affiliation or the lack thereof have ever stopped him from killing in the Lucif name. “That is not what Father would want you to do.”

“Bringing up the dead, are we? Silly brother,” she harrumphed. “Well, it no longer matters. I have no intention of destroying her that way anymore.” Her lips then broke out into a smile that revealed canines tinted pink. “I _want_ her now.” Riliane laughed, a childlike laugh that grated on his ears. Her eyes glazed over and she murmured, “I love her so much, and so does she… her life revolves around me now.”

“YOU BITCH!” Alexiel gripped Riliane by the collar of her silk blouse and tried to wrestle her into the floor, but his sister was stronger; she definitely hadn’t been abstinent. She harshly tugged on his hair and hit him with her elbow, making him fall to the floor.

“You… hah,”  Riliane tried to speak as she caught her breath, “you insol—agh!” Her hand readied to strike him, but he caught her wrist expertly. “Allen…!”

“I saw her first! I loved her first, way longer than you have!” The corners of his eyes burned, and he blinked away the angry tears muddling his vision. “Why do you always have to be the one who gets what you want?”

His sister’s hand grew limp in his grip, and soon he let go. Riliane just stared at him, her lip trembling. “You are in love with her,” she stated after a great while.

She was unguarded, and then would have been the perfect time to strike. Riliane already had everything, and still she wanted more. It was unfair. Just because of those stupid minutes that marked her the older, that dictated her being the one known and acknowledged by the public, he had to settle with what she was willing to share. “You used Venom, didn’t you?” _It’s a very effective drug_ , the Queen had said. “She doesn’t really love you.” _But then, she would never love me either._

“You’re wrong.”

“Call it what you want.” It was already too late to try something, the game was already over. The Queen’s words played over and over in his head, _it will surely work on anyone and everyone. It’s a very effective drug._ For now, the truth was that the one person Alexiel loved was hopelessly and irredeemably in love with his twin sister. Just like things had always been, always Riliane, Riliane, _Riliane_. Even Chartette had preferred the Princess. Only Ney had understood him, but she was already long out of reach. “Riliane?”

“…Allen?”

“I hate you.” He tried to ignore his mother’s voice, _You just keep on disappointing me, Alexiel._

“Allen, where are you going? Allen, Allen! Alexiel, come back here!” Even his sister’s voice was starting to sound like their mother’s.

 

The retainers’ wing of the mansion was dark and silent, everyone was either sound asleep or still up for tomorrow’s preparations—or furiously searching for him right now. And still Alexiel had no qualms about barging in a certain retainer’s room. “Leonhart, wake up.” He kicked the bed, hard. The older man didn’t respond, and he only had inebriation to blame. Or perhaps Leonhart being rational for once, getting a good night’s sleep before a stressful day ahead. Not that he cared. Alexiel reached out to tap his shoulder, just like any sensible person would first attempt, only for the other man to lash out and point a knife at his neck.

“Leave me the fuck alone.”

“It’s me. It’s just me.”

Leonhart blinked, and soon the angry haze in his eyes had dissipated. “Ah, it’s just you.” He slowly lowered the arm holding Alexiel at knifepoint. “Sorry about that,” he muttered, before chuckling nervously. The brown-haired soldier rubbed his face with his hands to hopefully take away the remaining dregs of sleep. “Alexiel, what do you want? Don’t you need some beauty rest or something?” He yawned. “Your birthday party’s tomorrow.”

“Do you know a good place to drink?”

“Hah? You’d have a lot of time to drink tomorrow. Go to sleep.” Leonhart shifted and tried to go under the covers again.

Alexiel took the blankets away.

“Hn...what is it?” Finally the other man looked at him with clear eyes.

“I _need_ a drink, and I need a place away from where the lawful police could find me.”

“Let me get dressed first.”

Angry footsteps resounded just as Leonhart emerged from his room, which grew nearer and nearer as the two men neared the mansion’s entrance. The hoarse voice that screamed at them was also uncharacteristic of their owner. “Where the hell are you two going?!”

“Mariam, not now.”

“It’s not you I want to talk to, so shut your mouth.” It seemed that the silver woman caught wind of his and Riliane’s conversation, and resolved to take matters into her own hands. “By the way, you still haven’t answered my question,” she huffed with her hands on her hips.

“...I thought you didn’t want to talk to me.”

“You are going drinking again, aren’t you?”

Leonhart directed his gaze back at Alexiel, but he only cocked an eyebrow at him. “That wasn’t the plan. But now…”

“ _Wasn’t_?!”

The older man stepped away from the furious Mariam, “I swear there will be no women involved this time.”

“This time? You asshole…!” The Silver Sparrow drew a knife from somewhere within her gray dress and quickly made to maim him. But instead of a scream that resembled death—there was also Leonhart brokenly reasoning that last time was one big misunderstanding—only that of skin hitting skin resounded. Alexiel startled at that, but he definitely didn’t let it show, and saw a red hand-shaped mark on Leonhart’s face.

“If this is a lovers’ spat, don’t involve me in it.” He totally wasn’t in the mood for this, _Gods, cut me some slack._ “Leonhart, let’s go.”

She gripped his arm tightly before he was able to walk away. “No one’s going until I’m done talking to you.” Mariam smoothed her dress and hid the knife. Now he felt the return of her quiet fury from before, what with the end of that ‘playful’ exchange with her…whatever the two of them were.

“Well then,” Alexiel started as he removed himself from the retainer’s grip. “Mariam… how long have you known?” Kyle’s obsession, or Riliane’s affair, he didn’t bother to indicate, there no longer was any difference.

From where he rested on the wall, he could see how the woman’s hesitation reflected her struggle with her sensibilities: which twin does she truly serve? “Just when she ordered the hit aborted,” she muttered through gritted teeth. “I tried to warn her, but she didn’t listen! That girl,” Mariam turned her furious gaze at him, “there’s something wrong with that girl!”

Alexiel met her gaze. “Watch your words, Mariam.”

“That girl, her records don’t add up. Blossom said she was born in Rollam, but there are no Michaela Arklows, or Arklows for that matter, in the Rollam statistical authority.” She sighed in exasperation, pinching the bridge of her nose. “There was absolutely nothing before the time she first appeared at the Theatre. It would do you good if you distance Riliane from her, or better yet… dispose of her yourself.”

He had flung himself at the older woman before he knew it, gripping her by the collar. “ **Hell no.** ”

“Mariam!”

She didn’t even flinch, and instead stared at him with cold hard eyes, silver orbs that reflected the unforgiving darkness of the underground. “I see.” Her cold calloused hands struggled against his, but her voice was even, “You are still too young after all, Alexiel.” And she broke out into a hysterical laugh.

Leonhart had then successfully wedged himself between the two of them. “Quit it.”

“Alexiel! This thing you’re having?” Her voice was condescending. “ _This_ has ruined the Asmodean mafia more than a hundred years ago! Don’t make the same mistakes as the past, look at Asmodean, Beelzenia, and Marlon. They’re still climbing out of the hellholes they dug themselves!”

“Mariam, you’re exaggerating,” the other man interjected in an attempt to quell the rising tensions.

“Then tell me why you’re here instead of living your merry life in Beelzenia?” Apparently, her knives weren’t her only weapons.

The other man’s jaw clenched. “Alexiel, let’s go.”

“I’m not done,” she spat as she shoved Leonhart away, glaring at the older man. “That woman is _not_ a normal civilian, Alexiel.”

“Michaela is not one of _them_ .” How dare she act high and mighty? The ugly voice whispered to him again, _She is right, you know._ Mariam Phutapie, the woman hailed as the deadly Silver Sparrow, the once child assassin born in the darkness of an Asmodean brothel, was the previous head’s most reliable soldier, her fierce loyalty to the Golden King the only thing binding her to Arth and Anne’s beloved children.

“Listen to me, Alexiel. Soon, that woman will bring to ruin to Arth and Anne’s kingdom. Where will you stand then? Who will you choose?” She then proceeded to walk back to the corridor she came from, as if nothing happened.

“What a dramatic woman.”

Mariam sharply looked back at them at that. “Don’t drink too much.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

After that whole ordeal, Alexiel found himself walking with Leonhart to a secluded bar in one of the more shadowy parts of Lucifenian. They had to park the car away in some parking lot to avoid the bar’s location being made public, standard protocol according to the other man. He was equally impressed and disturbed, he never knew of the bar’s existence even while making nightly patrols, although that may be because this place was where street children spent their lonely nights, and Alexiel was anything but lonely or abandoned.

 _The Free Ziz_ , the bar was apparently called. _What happens in The Free Ziz, stays in The Free Ziz_ , was the business tagline _._ On the outside, the bar just seemed to be another one of the abandoned buildings in what is now called Old Lucifenian, a ghost town left with the fossils of Beelzenia rule. Shabby and undecorated even by peeling paint, the unassuming building hid the establishment perfectly, for the true fun exists in the basement where the bar actually _is_. “Woman problems, huh?” the Red Lion of Lucifenia finally broke the silence as they descended a hidden stairway.

“Stop projecting your life story onto me,” he quipped back. “Yeah.” The muffled sound of laughing reached Alexiel’s ears. “What kind of people even go here?”

“People like you. Like us.” Leonhart opened the steel doors, which hid another set of elegant wooden ones. He led him to the bar counter, and the two of them sat side by side. The bespectacled bartender approached them after a while. “Two shots of pure ziz tiama ink mixed with Everclear.”

“Coming right up.”

“...pure… ziz tiama INK?!”

“I swear, they serve the real thing.”

The sound of glass hitting lacquered wood disrupted Alexiel’s train of thought. A shot glass filled with a swirling dark blue liquid lay in front of him. “People drink this?”

“It’s one of our bestsellers, my Prince,” the brown-haired bartender explained. “Freshly smuggled from Marlon, it’s been hailed a special delicacy even in the slums of Beelzenia.” He adjusted the glasses resting on his nose and continued, “Back in the day, some even claim it has medicinal properties, a drug if you may. But of course, mixed with alcohol, it rivals even Blood Grave in strength and taste.”

“This shit better be worth my money if you say it’s comparable to Blood Grave,” he spat, and then downed the entire thing in one go. The ink tasted of danger, and it left a familiar burning aftertaste. _Behemo, I’m so fucking thirsty._ He knew this was a bad idea. His throat felt like it was lit on fire, aggravated by being dry and parched for months.  “…another.” He felt his senses dull a little, as well as some inhibitions, just exactly what he needed for tonight. _Did this guy just call me Prince?_

“Love problems,” Leonhart explained to the bartender. He looked over at the other man and saw that he didn’t dare order another, most likely in consideration of Mariam’s wrath.

The bartender smiled, “It’s on the house.”

Alexiel turned from his stool to take a good look at the bar’s other patrons, or as good as he can under intoxication. His hand went to his throat in a pointless attempt to soothe the burn. Ever since Michaela, he had been quite unsated. There was an old guy there in the corner, some downcast teenager alone in a table, a crying woman—he remembered the Queen, and then the obviously rich kids being rowdy at another table. And if what Leonhart said was true, these kids were not rich from clean money. Why else would they bother hiding here? Or maybe it was because of the escorts.

“Hey,” he greeted in acknowledgment to the green-haired girl that sat next to him. Two other women approached him, all Elphe. He glanced at Leonhart, who was deep in conversation with the bartender. He looked back at the girl. She had cropped green hair and a slender and petite frame, and wore an atrocious shade of red on her lips, very unlike a certain someone he was currently trying to forget. “What’s your name?”

“Chelsea.” He shifted his gaze towards the other girls and saw Chelsea’s face contort from his peripheral. “Ah, that’s Alma—” referring to the shorter and more babyfaced of the two, “—and Barbara,” she pointed to the older-looking girl with a stern look and eyes that seemed a little too dead. Her arm reached to clutch his, red manicured nails digging in to the sleeve of his shirt. “Come now, my Prince,” she crooned, “Alexiel.”

He gazed at her figure once again, and then at the two girls. The babyfaced one looked a little too cute, while the tall one seemed too boring. The other two didn’t even bother to make a move. _Alexiel._ His free hand reached out to the girl in the seat next to him, his thumb brushing against her chapped lips. “Seems that you already know what name you’d be screaming tonight.”

The Chelsea girl grinned victoriously. She quickly took her rhinestone-studded clutch bag from the bar counter and tugged on his arm. He let himself be dragged away, and they left the bar with her cheap heels clacking on the hardwood floors, his arm around her waist.

****

He woke up to intense bright light and the feel of soft sheets tangled around him. He immediately sat up, feeling around for his knife and instead saw his clothes scattered on the floor. He picked up his clothes and was deeply grateful that his weapons and wallet were still around, and also his hair tie. The other piece of clothing on the floor was a sparkling green mini dress, or what was left of it. _Oh right._ He had left Leonhart at the bar to spend the night with an escort. And said man may already be deaf from Mariam’s lecture over him not bringing Alexiel back, her rage further fueled by the stress of preparing for their birthday party. “Fuck…!” He had forgotten that today was his birthday. Riliane would be furious. _Riliane._ It turned out the alcohol wasn’t able to solve his problems for him.

He surveyed his surroundings carefully. It seemed that he took the girl to some pricey hotel. The escort still lay asleep on the bed, _Barbara, was it?_ No matter, she was just a stand-in. He buckled his belt on, and wondered if Alma or what’s her name saw the bloodstains on his cuffs—he hadn’t changed when had gone home. Maybe not, maybe she did; money had definitely been more important to her than her own safety, considering her attempts to stand out from the other two. He glanced back at the woman, his eyes being drawn to her exposed neck, which was littered with bite marks still red from dried blood. He must have been more thirsty than he thought, what with the ziz tiama ink triggering his bloodlust after months of temperance. He threw a wad of cash by her side and immediately left, not bothering to check for a pulse.

****

_Lucif Mansion, Lucifenian_

It was already sunset when Alexiel decided to return, and he was able to avoid conversation with the party preparations in full swing. He opted for a simple dark gray tuxedo with a dark yellow long-sleeved shirt. He needed to look the part of an heir—no, he was the Prince already—and wearing the family colors was the best way to do so. Fortunately for him, the party had already begun when he descended the mansion’s ballroom, the Hall of Mirrors, and soon he was surrounded by the daughters of both the legal business’ executives and those of their shadier business partners. If he played his cards right, he would not need to talk to Riliane for the duration of the night.

“Between our dreams, our races, and our values~ The two of us who differ so have now met—”

 _That voice._ He weaved through the crowd of women to reach the ballroom’s makeshift stage and saw her: Michaela clad in an elegant flowing black gown and satin gloves, a delicate yellow rose adorning her neck in a choker, with yellow diamonds braided into her hair. She was singing a love song, her palm serenely placed over where her heart should be, and her gaze directed to someone on the side of the stage. He didn’t need to look to know who that was, but still he did, and saw his sister gazing back at her with a dumb lovestruck look on her face. A part of him wondered if that’s how he looked at Michaela whenever she sang.

“If I could be reborn…” And then the song was over. Michaela stepped off the stage amidst a warm round of applause and walked to where Riliane was, and gave his sister a kiss on the cheek, _or was it on the lips?_ Riliane then stood and called for a toast, her black and gold lace ball gown matching the aesthetic of Michaela’s. He was willing to bet a million Evs that his sister was the one who bought the diva her dress.

“Happy birthday, Princess Riliane!” the crowd boomed. That left a sour taste in his mouth. Although it had always been customary for his birthday celebration to happen _after_ the visitors on the legal side had left, Alexiel found tonight _very_ insulting to his person. Having at least the sense to avoid another scandal to mar the Lucif name, he chose to go through the sea of sleek tuxedos and glittering ball gowns to partake in some fresh air outside, but not before getting himself a glass of wine.

 

The mansion’s main building had at least three entrances: one leading to the Hall of Mirrors, one leading to the slightly more modest main entrance, and a hidden one leading to the underground floors, which the Lucifenia Group—the _illegal_ side, that is—frequently employed. From the edge of the terrace, he could only hear muffled sounds of the socializing happening inside _Riliane’s_ birthday party, slightly being drowned out by the more ambient chirping of crickets. Alexiel sighed, “At least a semblance of peace.” He gulped down the glass of wine, and his senses were bombarded with a powerful aroma and the familiar tang of iron, _Blood Grave_. He decided that this was the better one between the ziz tiama ink, at least this one didn’t aggravate his bloodlust to dangerous levels, it actually quenched a little bit of the thirst like a placebo. The thought of Blood Grave, a proud Beelzenian product, being thoroughly enjoyed by himself through connections with the insidious Marlon black market, made him smirk. At least even for the horrible night that is tonight, he could still metaphorically spit on one of his sworn enemies—the Beelzenia Conglomerate. A laugh was threatening to bubble out of his throat until he was interrupted by strong, arrogant footsteps approaching. He took another sip.

“It’s not very nice to not invite your fiance to your own birthday party, don’t you think, future brother-in-law?”

Alexiel choked on his wine. Kyle _fucking_ Marlon just arrived, and he was definitely about to crash the party. One part of him wanted to give Riliane a pat on the back for possessing the guts not to invite _this_ asshole that was her fiance, while at the same time, he wanted to slap her for putting her infatuation over the good of the Group. But of course, he wanted his sister to be _humiliated_ as payback for her selfishness. And so he did nothing. From the terrace he could hear an eruption of scandalized murmurs. Riliane, and possibly the entire Lucifenia Group, were so going to be fucked, and the Prince Alexiel Lucif of the Lucifenia Group didn’t give a damn.

 

After a good thirty minutes or so, people were exiting the Hall of Mirrors, and that’s when he chose to waltz in for a grand entrance. “Yo, Sister.” Riliane glared at him, with Michaela hiding behind her and clutching on her arm. The singer was visibly trembling, he noted, her usual bright eyes downcast. Kyle was nowhere in sight.

“I had Leonhart make the pompous bastard leave, if you were wondering.” His sister affectionately touched Michaela’s shoulder and whispered something to her.

“Can you at least refrain from public displays of affection?”

“I’m sorry,” Michaela blurted out, her voice uncharacteristically shaky.

“What? You don’t have to apologize, dear,” Riliane chided. “Just don’t mind my brother.”

“Alexiel is your brother?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Riliane huffed, and then glared at him once more. “Why didn’t you stop him?” He had to hold himself back from clicking his tongue at her sheer audacity to parade Michaela around.

“Why do I have to clean up after your mess?”

His sister snarled, a menacing rumble that bared her teeth. Michaela held her hand and she stopped that stupid display of dominance. “Asan! Olten!”

Two young men in black suits—fourth-generations, whose great-grandparents probably served under the reign of his great-grandfather Vey—immediately appeared by their side. “Yes, Princess?”

“Accompany Michaela on her way home.”

Asan and Olten gave a salute and asked for Michaela’s hand, “Let us go, milady.” The two were still pretty inexperienced in Alexiel’s opinion, but he chalked that up to being more used to the elites, the likes of Chartette and Arth’s Trinity. They were after all in home territory, there’s no conceivable way that their own men would be disadvantaged.

The diva reluctantly offered her free hand to the two soldiers. She glanced back at Riliane, her left hand still not leaving his sister’s. “I’m scared.”

Riliane took the dainty gloved hand and raised it to her lips, kissing her lover’s knuckles. He saw the familiar shine of gold on Michaela’s ring finger. “He’ll never be near you ever again, I promise it. So please go home now. Asan and Olten will take care of you.” She gave another command to the two: “Michaela’s word is as good as mine, so you know what will happen if you disobey.”

The two shuddered at that. “Understood. Miss Michaela, let’s be on our way.” Now only him and Riliane were left in the middle of the ballroom. So much for his attempts at avoiding her after that confrontation. The twins just stood there, not even sparing a glance at each other.

He decided to break the silence. “How exactly will you keep Kyle away from her?”

“I’m going to break the engagement.”

“What?!”

“Oh, don’t be so surprised, brother dear. Kyle tried to pull that on me, too, remember? And suddenly, he changed his mind, calling it a lapse in judgment. I didn’t believe him, as you all know,” she explained. Crossing her arms, she added, “I know exactly what you’ve been doing to Michaela, you creep.”

“I, I never tried anything of the sort!” He sputtered indignantly.

“I know, and that’s the only thing keeping me from throwing you in prison right now.” Riliane’s lips formed a grim line. “Unlike our _dearest_ Kyle who I _should_ really be beheading right now.”

“You mean, he…?” _That bitch Mayrana, who else had she been sucking up to?_

“Don’t worry, I’ve housed her somewhere safer. It seems that Marlon had already staked out that cheap apartment she and her brother had been living in. I’ve contacted Ney and she agreed to lend some Barisol forces for security.” _Ney, huh?_ They had stopped calling her Aunt Ney a long time ago. Apparently, it was awkward to keep calling your aunt _Aunt_ when she looked the same age as you, sometimes even passing as a younger sister. “There are also others. Sadly, Ney herself cannot be part of this. She had always been an exemplary soldier of Father. She said her brother currently needs her help.”

He felt a sharp pang of rejection at the revelation; Ney had raised and trained him when he was young, and she had only ever talked of her mother. “I didn’t know Ney had a brother.”

“Me, neither.”

“Well, it seems that everyone left with whatever Kyle did earlier, so, I guess I’d be retiring for the night.”

“Alexiel?”

“Hm?”

“Happy birthday.”

“Happy birthday, too, Riliane.”

 

The very next day, Alexiel’s thankfully quiet breakfast with his sister was interrupted by a nervous Chartette. Their pink-haired friend had come in with some very grave news: “I’m very very sorry to interrupt but—”

“Spit it out.”

“Asan and Olten’s bodies were found washed up on Orgo Creek.”

“Michaela?” He asked in lieu of Riliane, who was busy clutching her utensils until her knuckles turned white. _Please no_.

Chartette averted her gaze. “She’s nowhere to be found. Madam Mariam’s been organizing searches left and right with Sir Leonhart, but there’s been no other news yet.”

The sound of breaking ceramic startled Alexiel; Chartette looked like she wanted to curl up and bury herself in the ground. Riliane had just shoved all her dinnerware to the floor, and then she threw one of the flower vases, and so on. He observed that she was awfully quiet, unlike the time she threw a fit over Kyle’s womanizing. And then the surface on which his arms rested shifted, and fell. Riliane had smashed the mahogany dining table with her bare hands. “To Hell with Marlon,” she growled, and walked out of the dining room. He went to follow her, breakfast forgotten.

 

“Sister!” He found her in her room, her fist bleeding from punching her second favorite mirror. “Stop that!” He quickly approached her and pulled her away from the mirror, and tried to remove the shards embedded in her hand as much as he can, all while trying to ignore the alluring scent wafting to his nose. Soon warm drops mixed in with the blood dripping from her trembling fist.

“Are you happy now?” Riliane croaked out. _Yes_ , the ugly voice in his head whispered once again, _now both of us will not have her_. But no, as jealous as he may be, Alexiel would never wish this on his twin. He tried to wipe some of her tears with the hand that wasn’t picking out the glass shards. This wasn’t how Riliane should be. The Princess was supposed to be strong, she should never show any weakness, not even in front on him. She hadn’t even cried during their parents’ funeral.

“No.” He noticed that one ring was missing from Riliane’s left hand: the golden rose. “I don’t want this for you.” His sister practically threw away the entire Group’s welfare, disregarded their ancestors’ generations of hard work, and was now breaking down in front of him, all because of a single woman. He remembered the story of Asmodean and Beelzenia, a cautionary tale imparted by their father, and then a demon’s words: _You were born twins for you will both inherit this world._

The Princess’s sobs died down after a great while, and he let her fall asleep on his shoulder. In slumber, Riliane Lucif did not look like the monster she actually was, one could have mistaken her for an angel. She almost looked like their mother. 

His mother’s curse rang in his ears, and without thought he said the words from long ago, the promise that landed him in a nightmare: “I will protect you.” If the world has become her enemy, if _her_ world was taken from her, if the world doesn’t revolve in her favor, it was his duty to fix it. His mother made sure of it, that because it was Riliane and not anyone else, that because they were siblings— _twins_ , he would never try and steal from her. _I am so proud of you_ _, Alexiel,_ a beautiful voice whispered. A part of him then wondered, did he really love Michaela, or was she just an object he desired in a sick attempt to have something of his own? He glanced at his watch, 6:16 A.M. They had at most less than eighteen hours, if his sister decides to wake up very soon, to start plotting the Marlon Mafia’s downfall.

 

****

 

 _EC 259_ _  
_ _Hall of Sounds, Lucif Mansion_

Alexiel came in the room to see the five of them—Riliane, Mariam, Leonhart, Chartette, and Minis—bickering over the sounds of incessant gunfire from outside. He wondered if things would have reached this magnitude if Ney had been here. She had an eccentric tactical sense, a complement to Leonhart’s brute strength and Mariam’s swift and cunning. And her murderous intent had outclassed them all, as if she had been a predator already in the womb. He shook his head, now was not the time to reminisce over a distant memory. “Riliane.” The last time he had called her this calmly, it was to deliver Venom. Now, he was delivering something far more grave.

“Allen.”

“It’s not only Lucifenian. There have been riots in Rolled, and Rollam is already taken hostage. The Coast is in flames.”

Riliane cursed. “Have the Beelzenia goons finally struck? This can’t be the work of Marlon, we haven’t even fired a single bullet at them!” His sister only got that last sentence right. What they had plotted for Marlon was something more insidious. But he couldn’t blame her line of thought. The Group was in slight disarray and their manpower was spread out, and it wouldn’t be wise to discount Beelzenia’s stupidity to see such as an opportune time to strike, even with the knowledge that Lucifenia had enough resources to lay waste to Akuna.

“It’s not Beelzenia, Sister. It’s Millennium Forest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you noticed, I stopped referring to them as retainers and instead called them soldiers. Things in this chapter have gone too heated that and dived more into the mafia-ish aspects, if that makes sense.


	5. Midas Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaaaack! This chapter is pretty short compared to the previous, but hhhhh it's going to be exhausting. Warning for some mild body horror, though.
> 
> Also, I've revised chapters 3 and 4 by a tiny bit.

_EC 259_ _  
_ _Hall of Sounds, Lucif Mansion_

“It’s not Beelzenia, Sister. It’s Millennium Forest.”

“What do you mean it’s Millennium Forest?!” she screeched. A loud noise accompanied Riliane’s shrill voice, it seemed that her gilded chair toppled over from her standing up. “Those Elphegortian bastards. I paid them millions, millions! Just for that tiny bottle, and this is what they do to me!”

“I think this and that are different things, Princess,” Leonhart interrupted, _what a rude man!_ “I don’t think—”

“ _I_ don’t think that they have a good reason for attacking us. As if they even have the mind for that, those senile imbeciles.”

“Riliane.”

“One of them told me I was too young to want Venom! Can’t they just do their job and sell me what I want?!”

“Princess—”

“And now…! Laying waste to my territory! It’s not like I burned down Evil’s Forest.” Riliane paused to catch her breath, and then chuckled. “By the way, that’s a very stupid name. Evil’s. Forest.” She heard Chartette stifle a laugh, _at least someone in this room gets me_. “Evil’s Forest. It’s just so dumb. They could have called it Millennium Forest after their stuck-up group.”

“Princess, the attack?”

She glared at Minis. “What about it?” The pitiful man shrunk in his seat under her gaze. She fiddled with her left ring finger, hoping to feel the familiar cold of gold, but it wasn’t there. “Allen, be a dear and tell one of the Forest goons if you meet them that their forest’s name is very stupid.”

It had been one month already. One month without Marlon making a move, and one month without any news. Her words now were nothing but filler, a futile attempt at reminding the world that the Lucif princess was not ruining herself over a single girl. She hadn’t foreseen any of this, not when she had been once promised the world. She was surrounded only by the best, the golden legacy of Marie Annette, and yet they all have proved their uselessness time and again. Mariam, for all she was worth, was again unable to find any helpful leads. Any more failures and the one to the blade would be—

“Sister, I did not deliver this news just to hear you rant.” Allen had a sullen look on his face, he had been wearing that expression too much for the past weeks that she was getting tired of it. She had a lover to find, he didn’t need to add to her problems. “What do we do?”

The answer had been too obvious for her: “Destroy them.” Gears were already turning in her head, spurred on by the threat to her authority. “Recall Lily and her group from the border, and tell them to liberate Rollam. Rolled can come after. If you don’t find that agreeable, have Lily and her father’s groups join forces to breach Rolled and pass through Sanosun Bridge. They should be able to secure a position to surprise Millennium Forest from behind.”

“That wouldn’t work this time. My sparrows told me that they, the ones outside and still coming, came to us from the _north_.”

“What do you mean ‘the north’? Rolled and Rollam are south of here!”

Her servant finally approached the table and leaned on Chartette’s chair. “It’s true that they went for our south first, but the ones who are currently in Lucifenian arrived from the north. Directly from the north. The ones in the south don’t seem to be planning to join the main northern forces from what I’ve seen. We rearranged our forces to be more concentrated in the west because of Marlon, and well, the ones who reinforced the west are those from the north, Sister.” _Sister._

 _Oh my,_ her head was throbbing again. Dreams were not supposed to visit while awake, why now. This boy was her brother, her brother, brother, _brother_ — “Minis, fetch me some wine. Blood Grave.” Just who in the world was Allen? They have had this conversation before, and a name was the last thing on the list of things she needed to concern herself with. She shook her head and tried racking her mind for a more useful memory, a strategy that could get her out of this mess. Nothing. “How long will the men outside hold out?”

“Not long. An hour at the worst.” Soon after, Leonhart left the room, presumably to join in on the defense.

“Wine!” Minis hurriedly placed a goblet in her waiting hand. “An hour is too short,” Riliane complained after a sip. A sense of dread overcame her, a heavy weight over her head that felt very familiar. _One of us is going to die_. She froze.

Chartette thankfully broke the gunfire-punctuated silence, also breaking her out of her murky thoughts. “Aren’t they just big time drug lords? The firepower and everything seems too much for drug lords.”

Her friend was right. Millennium Forest was just the biggest drug syndicate in Evillious. But there was something else, something she was supposed to remember. She tapped her nails on the glass as if trying to conjure the answer out of thin air. She took another sip, the cheap, second-rate metallic liquid reminding her of Michaela’s absence. She couldn’t die yet, not when her promise to Michaela was still unfulfilled. _When everything’s over with, let’s have our marriage ceremony by the Anonymous Coast._

“Elphegort and Levianta are allies. Unbelievably old allies.” _And the Witch hates us._ That was it, the piece on information she was trying to remember. Mariam was proving useful for once. “Didn’t Arth teach you that?”

“ _Father_ ,” Riliane gritted out, “never taught me anything. You should know. You and mother were the ones who raised me.” But still her good mother, even with eyes filled with reluctance and fear, had offered her and her brother up to _him_. _Him_. She slammed the goblet on the table in excitement, the wine inside sloshing and spilling onto her hand.

“Have you finally figured out a solution? Time is running out.”

Riliane licked the drops of Blood Grave on her hand. He was right, it could suffice as a placebo for the desperate, and with the taste of false blood she remembered a god’s promise: _You were born twins for you will both inherit this world._ “Yes.” She wanted to call him properly, the golden-haired boy who looked so much like her, but the right name just wouldn’t appear on her tongue, so she settled for something she knew was safe. “Brother, call Lord Behemo this instant.”

“No.”

Riliane growled, “You will.”

Her brother clicked his tongue. “What do you want him for?” His clouded eyes showed thinly-veiled disgust and behind it, fear. Riliane surmised that he still hasn’t gotten over that fateful twilight. He was weak, unlike her. “We don’t need him.”

“And yet you still swear by him.” This wasn’t really the best time for her brother to act up, they had less than an hour to save their skins.

“As if I had another choice. His name is the only one I know,” he defended grumpily.

“Mariam, prepare to give out orders to those outside. I will handle those in the other cities. Chartette, you just stay here,” she commanded.

“He _ruined_ us. I will not have him near Lucifenia again. I will not have that _freak_ tamper with us again.”

“Calm down, Brother. Just give him a call. It’s not like he could bite you from over there.” Riliane took out her phone and prepared for a conference call with the remaining resistance in Rolled and the border with Re Tasan. “This is the perfect time to make use of our connection to a Leviantan.”

He slid his phone across the table. “You do it. I’m not going to talk to him ever again.” She saw him shudder, his eyes blink out of focus, and Riliane concluded that he must have been imagining black boxes and laboratories again. The screen of her brother’s phone was already lit up with Behemo Barisol’s number dialed.

“I will be putting this on loudspeaker.”

“I’m going out.”

“No. You are staying here.”

“Ah, Alexiel! I never expected you to call dear old me.” The playful voice of the god still hadn’t changed after a decade.

“It’s _me_.”

“Riliane, dear! Hm, why did I even expect that boy to reach out to me, so impolite.” Alexiel scoffed at that. Behemo laughed in response, a soft trill that sounded like her brother’s, not that Alexiel had ever laughed like that. “Alexiel, ever the stubborn child. I don’t remember my darling Marina ever being like that, or even the first Riliane. You should be nicer to me, just like your great-grandmother. After all, we are family!”

“No, we fucking _aren’t_!”

She couldn’t blame her brother, even she had wanted to hang up, but she needed the dragon’s help. “My Lord?” She winced, and decided that she was never going to say those words again, _how degrading_.

“What is it, child?”

She let the sound of static and whirring from the other side die down before continuing, “We need help.”

“Mmm?”

Cold sweat ran down her back. Time was running out, and she desperately needed an out of this mess Lucifenia got itself into. She could hardly spare any more to humor the old man. “Tell Millennium Forest to back off. You and them are allies, you can do that, correct? Or if not, just send us some immediate reinforcements to hold them back. Just… get us out of this.”

“Get you out of what?”

“We are under attack by Millennium Forest! They’ll breach the mansion in less than an hour, we need help. Stop them.”

“Oh dear. There’s no way Eve would let me do any of that. She has had enough of my good-willed meddling. And it’s not like I am _allowed_ to go to Lucifenia…” More whirring sounds, and crackles. Riliane could vividly visualize the immortal being cooped up in his laboratory in… _where was it again?_ He would be conducting some weird god-forsaken research, or at least what god-forsaken now meant with him doing such. _And what in the world does ‘good-willed meddling’ even mean?!_

“Hey, do you think Sir Leonhart is dead?” Riliane heard Chartette ask Mariam. It was a very valid question, but not one she needed to entertain. Leonhart couldn’t die without her permission, nor any one of these idiots that got themselves ranked as her elite.

“He better not be.” And then the silver woman walked out.

She heard papers shuffling from the other line, and Behemo clearing his throat. “I’ve been looking at what you two have been doing for the past year, and… I really wouldn’t say you didn’t have this coming.” More sounds of papers, and then a lot of typing. Had he been someone lesser, and currently in this room, she would have shot him for not giving her his full attention.

“What do you mean?”

“The best course for now would be: surrender!”

**“HELL NO.”**

Chartette looked at the both of them in confusion. “What now…?”

The god laughed. “Don’t worry. I will make sure that _he_ would listen to whatever you have to say.”

“I said, NO!”

“Bye, dearies! He wouldn’t kill you, well, I wouldn’t say the same for everyone else. Send my regards! And don’t try to imitate your founder Marie’s stubbornness!” And Behemo Barisol hung up.

She cursed. The throbbing in her head became stronger, drowning the sound of gunfire and worried murmurs. _I cannot die yet._ What their great-great-grandfather wanted, for them to surrender, was utterly reprehensible, and so she wondered if he really was the same god who had promised her the world. Riliane would behead her own brother for treason if he even thought of suggesting such, and therefore she found some relief in his indignant response that chorused with hers.

“Riliane, we can’t,” her brother pleaded.

“I know,” she snapped. Every fiber of her being agreed with her brother’s sentiment, but even deeper, maybe deep in her soul if she even had one, was a strong, desperate, and hungry yearning for self-preservation. _I don’t want to die yet._ Why must it be that their slothful neighbor incited so much fear in her? It was as if she had greatly wronged them in some other life, and they were out for her head. Blinking back shameful tears as subtly she could, Riliane ordered, “Chartette… tell Mariam to tell everyone to lay down their arms.” Every word tasted the most bitter, but if she died today, then Michaela would have one less person to return to.

“I..., Princess…?”

“Don’t just stand there like an imbecile, go!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

A familiar look of betrayal flashed across Alexiel’s visage. Alexiel— _yes, that was his name_. She never prided herself in being a good sibling, but why does that expression stab her heart so, when it did not eleven years ago? “Alexiel…”

“How could you do this to Father’s legacy?!”

Riliane groaned, her brother was being hysterical again. “If I didn’t, then the Group would definitely be erased from history. And it’s not like you had a better idea.”

“But…!” The sounds of gunfire from outside had begun to die out. “I couldn’t believe you’d throw away our pride away just like that. We fought for our freedom from Beelzenia once. And now you are offering us to Elphegort.”

She pursed her lips. Her brother, no—her servant, was becoming more disagreeable by the second. “Shut up.” She hastily typed a message to Lily and the others to immediately surrender, with a threat tacked on to ward off disobedience. Walking towards the insolent boy’s side, Riliane grabbed his arm, “You are not going to leave this room without my permission.”

“I am not going to play this sick game with you.”

“You really think I’d be bowing to these old dumbasses? Just accompany me and we’ll get out of this mess together.” She led him to the grand staircase that overlooked the mansion’s main entrance.

Minis, who had descended to the first floor when she and Alexiel had been arguing, ran to her and whispered, “Princess, they have been demanding to be let in. The boss wanted to talk to the both of you, you and the Prince.”

“Let them in,” she replied begrudgingly. When no one made a move, she yelled, “LET THEM IN!”

The remaining men and women inside the mansion hurriedly unbolted the heavy doors. Elphegort’s gall to demand usage of her mansion’s main entrance…how infuriating. From above, she saw an entourage step inside. _How many men and women would we be burying tonight?_ She filed away the thought for later, failures need not be given the time of day at such a critical time. Mourning could always come later.

“That bitch!” her brother yelled. She narrowed his eyes at him, but his enraged gaze was focused on a certain person that entered the mansion—Michaela’s boss.

She bit her lip. Traitors, traitors, treacherous creatures everywhere. She’d definitely execute that woman once this issue was settled. Beelzenians could never be trusted, she should have known that. Leonhart, ah, that man would be kept under close watch after this incident. Even though the man would never lay a hand on his queen’s children, the fact still remained that she and her brother were that of Arth’s flesh and blood. “Hmph, what’s taking their boss so long?” she muttered. The entryway was already a sea of green save for Mayrana, and yet Millennium Forest’s boss was still nowhere to be found. Unless it really was that bitch, unlikely as it was with the characteristic Elphegortian racism.

“Elphegort had been spying on us!” Alexiel ranted further. “We were tricked!” How tactful of him to scream that out of earshot. But then he quickly descended the staircase, presumably to have a chat with Mayrana.

Riliane sighed in irritation and then followed her brother to prevent him from doing something all of them would regret. This was also an opportunity to personally confront the other group’s head, to prove that Lucifenia wasn’t a coward, that she was clever, that she had a plan, that she wasn’t afraid. _My people, look at me, your leader is going to save your lives!_ But she was only greeted by her own retainers’ surprised gasps, and that of the Elphegortian goons’ condescending looks. She swallowed an undignified growl. “Mayrana, where is your superior? I am willing to personally compromise for a resolution.”

Before the older woman could even turn her attention to Riliane, a deep voice already resounded: “...So, we’ve finally met, Lucif.”

Riliane went rigid. This… couldn’t be. By god, she had not seen this coming at all. “You are…” The reclusive leader of Millennium Forest was…

“Marx Yggdra.”

“I see that you are well-versed in current affairs, child,” the doctor remarked in a slow, patronizing tone.

Alexiel gritted his teeth at that, prompting her to whisper, “Idiot brother, don’t speak a word or else he might—”

“I have no time for that,” he waved off, “I promised that deviant I wouldn’t kill the two of you.” He then gestured for his entourage to stay where they are, before looking back down at her. “This old man is tired from coming all the way here. Would the two of you mind us talking somewhere more private?”

“Uh, of course. Follow me into the parlor,” she hastily replied as she walked off, but not before dropping a threatening glare at the woman leeching off her riches. Mayrana only smirked. She glanced back at the elderly Elphe man. Marx Yggdra, the previous CEO of Yggdra Pharma and a well-respected doctor, was currently in her home threatening the entire Lucifenia Group, and effectively the whole of their territory. Who would have known that this lauded lifesaver of a man had blood-stained hands not just of life but also of death? The neighbor in the north was the same as the others then: an old family controlling the commoners’ economy and the clockwork of the underground. Riliane wouldn’t be surprised, not at all, if Millennium Forest sold all the poisons and drugs in the world only for Yggdra Pharma to manufacture all the antidotes and cures. A perfect monopoly that was, a well-thought modus operandi. She could almost vomit at the hypocrisy. “Would it be alright if we had another person with us as company, an insurance of sorts?”

The elderly man sneered. “A weak old man like me against two youths? Suit yourself. Just remember,” he threatened, “if I don’t find the outcome to my liking, this country will come to ruin.”

Steeling herself, she called for Mariam as calmly as possible, and soon the silver-haired assassin was by her and her brother’s side.

 

In the parlor, Mariam served the three of them tea before taking her place at their side. She and her brother sat together on a gilded couch, with Marx opposite them.

“Mmm,” the intruder started as he took a sip, “I’m surprised that you haven’t added any poison. I may have underestimated your stupidity.”

“Pardon???”

“Well, I suppose that your brother has taken Eve’s words to heart.”

She nudged the boy sitting right next to her. “...Who in the world is Eve?”

“I have absolutely no idea.”

“I believe you call her the ‘Witch’, then? How ill-mannered, just like your ancestor.”

“I could only take so much disrespect in my own home, Doctor.”

The doctor scoffed. “Disrespect? What I find most disrespectful is you two young ones meddling in our business. Your years are still too few to even compare to the legacies I have built.”

Raising her head, she replied, “I have had enough of being treated like a child. But I assure you, Doctor. Not once have I ever plotted against Elphegort. Nor have I ever laid a finger on something of yours.” That was the truth. Unless he had counted all of his citizens, even the immigrants, then things would have been a different story.

Marx sighed. “Did Behemo really not exert any effort in educating you? And to think that he planned for you to be his inheritors… _how disappointing._ ”

 _That_ set her off. Slamming the teacup on the glass table—thankfully none had shattered—Riliane finally retaliated, “Quit the mind games and just tell me! Razing my territory, killing my men, all without provocation! And all that after I paid you what, millions! Millions! And Behemo this, Behemo that… how is he even relevant?!”

“Without provocation, you claim? Then tell me, where is my daughter?!”

“Haaaaah?!” That was Allen. “What would we even gain from that widow!”

“Not Margarita. Michaela.” Now, Riliane herself could feel Marx’s simmering anger. “What did you twins do to my daughter?”

“I… I, I—” _Michaela?!_ She never told her that her father was a big-shot. Who even was Michaela? Her being a civilian must have been a lie… which part of Michaela was truth then, and which were lies? Had she really loved her, Riliane wondered, trying to blink back tears.

“Mayrana had told me about your advances. Both of you. And the two of you were undeterred. And Venom? Hmph, if it weren’t for my blood running through her veins, who knows what could have happened to her.”

So _that_ was the case. Marx had been blaming them for Michaela’s disappearance. She had to remedy that. Lamenting her lover’s sincerity could come later. “Just so you know, Doctor, it couldn’t be possibly us at fault for her going missing. I am currently looking for her! And then you and your goons march in here, interrupting our efforts. It’s Marlon. Marlon! EVERYTHING IS MARLON’S FAULT!” And then she fell down on the couch, breathing heavily from that tirade. “Hngh… I- I had her guarded that night, and yet, and… hah… it could only be them. Kyle. Kyle Marlon. He’s the one you should be looking for. Not me. Not me.”

“Quit fucking with me. You really expect me to believe that, child? Marlon is your ally, you are even engaged with this Kyle. For all I know, you could be colluding with each other.”

“Wake up, old man.” _Oh my god. He did not_. Allen continued, “It seems that you’re the one here not updated on current events. That engagement had already been broken a month ago.”

“That doesn’t prove anything.”

“Ask your _trusted_ Mayrana then. Ask her about Kyle. Interrogate each and everyone of us here. And Mayrana. All the evidence points to him, as circumstantial they may be.”

Riliane doubted that Millennium Forest had the energy to do that. Marx himself looked like he was ready to fall asleep any second.

“Are you insinuating that we wasted our time on this siege?”

“Unfortunately so.” Sighing once more, Riliane reflected about this disastrous day. People died on both sides for the wrong reasons. She had lost control of the flow of the situation, and the best outcomes she could think of were Elphegort withdrawing and Marlon self-destructing. And it was obvious the latter was nigh impossible without a catalyst.

The doctor sighed once more, dropping his forehead on his palms. “Always too late, always with misplaced priorities…” He groaned, “Eve was right, I’m not a good—”

“Doctor.” She offered her hand. “I know that this first meeting is quite the unpleasant one, but if anything, it’s not too late to start over.”

“An alliance, is that what you are proposing?” He then laughed soullessly in lieu of a defeated sigh. “I have seen this happen before… a father enters an agreement with a blond twin for his daughter’s happiness, and then years later, that daughter becomes miserable in a blue-haired man’s arms…”

 _Good grief, now he’s rambling like an old man._ “Let us take down Marlon together.” She had half a mind to say father-in-law, but she figured that wouldn’t put her in the doctor’s good graces.

With furrowed brows, the doctor conceded. “Fine.” He took her outstretched hand, sealing a deal that even Arth wasn’t able to achieve in life, “I’ll side with _you_ for the sake of finding my daughter.”

 

“That was unexpected, Princess.”

“Shush!” Mariam had been going over and over her splendid negotiation earlier after bidding farewell to the Millennium Forest troops, and it was starting to get on her nerves. “By the by, did you put any poison in his tea?”

“Poison… is not my expertise, Princess.”

“I know that.” But there _was_ a poison user in Lucifenia before, too bad he’s probably already dead or defected. She groaned. Her predecessors’ subordinates shouldn’t be her concern now, dead men were ultimately useless. By all means, Riliane should be resting after this whole ordeal with the Forest. “Leave me be. I don’t want to be interrupted wherever I’m going. If the others complain, direct all concerns to my brother.”

“Understood.”

Finally and utterly alone, Riliane ascended the grand staircase and entered the room adjacent to her bedroom, the one housing her most prized treasures. She sat down on the heavily-adorned throne in the middle, all exhaustion catching up to her, and her eyes met the preserved blue-eyed gaze of one severed blond head. “Father, what would you have done?”

***

 _EC 260_ _  
_ _Master Bedroom, Lucif Mansion_

When did the ceiling become this ornate, Riliane wondered. She had lived in this mansion for twenty-odd years, and owned this room to herself for about half of that, and it was only now that she actually saw it. What else did she own that she hadn’t appreciated? Ugh, she didn’t want to remember, _god, I don’t want to I don’t I don’t_ —

But the ring returned on her finger said otherwise.

She was supposed to be the best, she was promised to own everything, and now… She hadn’t reneged on her alliance with a god, but the promise to Michaela… that promise was now out of reach. _When everything’s over with, let’s have our marriage ceremony by the Anonymous Coast._ She was gone, gone, _gone._ Her soft lips would never smile upon her again, would never sing again, would never kiss. The truth of Michaela’s sincerity would be forever lost to the earth, her only remnant the golden ring Riliane gave her.

Everything, she could remember everything. Mariam, ever the bearer of bad news alongside Chartette. Leonhart, a useless oaf who tried to console her. Allen, her servant brother servant brother servant servant placing a hand on her shoulder despite his heart breaking himself. Her, running to Old Lucifenian to see it for herself. _It wasn’t real it wasn’t real it wasn’t wasn’t_ It had been a full year since the Elphegort attack, roughly eleven months since Michaela had—

“Riliane.” She snapped out of her daze at that familiar voice and a warm, calloused hand untangling her hair.

“Allen…?” He shouldn’t be here. The first part of their revenge on Marlon hadn’t yet come to fruition. That needed to happen no matter what, that was part of the condition for Elphegort’s continued support. Stealing Marlon’s revenue stream from…

He chuckled. “It’s Alexiel, sister. You always forget.”

“Yes, yes, I do.” She reached for his hand and asked him, “Why are you here? This wasn’t our arrangement. You’re supposed to be overseas…” He really looked like her, Riliane noticed. It wasn’t something as cliche as having his eyes seem like mirrors reflecting her, but almost each and every part of him looked like her. A human mirror, that was her brother. They were so much alike that they loved the same woman. “Or else, you’d die at Milanais Square.” And it would be for something he did not do. _That couldn’t happen._

“Milanais Square? Have you gone mad, sister?” Her brother laughed again, a soft gentle sound like the pealing of bells. “You demolished it a few days ago.”

“I did?” Ah, she did. Probably. Alexiel’s life was her own, and therefore it was only right to remove anything that would threaten her property. “Mhmm, brother, I…”

“Shhhh, I’ll take care of things from this end. Just keep on living, alright?”

It was her turn to laugh. “What even is the point, anyway?” To be left all alone in this world, that was unacceptable. Riliane Lucif would rather die than have no one left to glorify her.

“You are father’s legacy.”

“Don’t bring him up now.” Holding his face in her hands, the reflection of her own, she told him, “You are my only heir. If anything, you are the one who must live. I order you to. As the owner of it, and as your lord and sister.”

He made an annoyed face. “Can you not ruin a tender moment with your ‘I own everything’ bullshit?”

“Promise me… promise me that you’d avenge her. I don’t know anymore. I, I don’t know what else to do…”

Her brother kissed her forehead and said, “Leave it all to me. Now, sleep, dear sister.”

“Oho, you really look good in my clothes, Alexiel. As if you were another me…”

 

When Riliane woke up, she found that it was almost 3:00 P.M. A bit too late for lunch, but just in time for tea. “Allen! Whip me up some brioche!” she had immediately ordered at the top of her lungs, not even bothering to descend downstairs where most of the household were.

It was Leonhart who greeted her. “Good afternoon, Princess.”

How could this afternoon be good?! “Where is my brioche?!”

“I’ll go and tell Mariam to prepare some.”

She grabbed his arm before he could go. “Where is Allen?”

“Alexiel? He’s not supposed to return yet…? Princess, if I remember right, he’s still in—”

“Chartette, then?” How lonely must she have gotten, dreaming about the brother she had purposely sent away.

“Uh, it’s her scheduled trip to Enbizaka today..”

 _Oho?_ “Very well. I’ll be by the balcony. Announce that to the relevant people.” _I hope he returns soon_.

 

_The Heavenly Yard, Lucif Mansion_

“This brioche is not the same as what my brother does. It’s even subpar to Chartette’s.”

Mariam clicked her tongue as she poured her tea, definitely unpoisoned. “If you are just going to complain, then don’t eat.”

“But this will suffice,” she said before munching on another one, in a delicate manner befitting a princess, of course. “When will we even finish setting up Marlon’s destruction anyway? What did I order Allen, kill Kai Miroku or turn him over to our side? Do the honors of reminding me of our plans for those worthless Marlon leftovers.”

Mariam sighed, exasperated. “Both. You told him to do both. Whichever works. Although,” Mariam paused, a faraway look in her eyes, “Elphegort may have other plans in mind. They are being cheated out of the drug trade in the East apparently.”

“Really now?” Sipping her tea, she thought of Marlon’s breaches of its alliances. What’s next? A Maistian rebellion? “Hah, that would be great.”

“What?”

“None of your concern.”

With the warm sun shining down on her, Riliane felt a dose of calm. _Michaela_. Ah, she would be stroking her hair now, whispering sweet nothings, promising each other of going against the world for their vow. And church bells would be ringing, ringing like mad as if they wanted her ears to fall off…!

“Chartette!” she yelled at her phone. “How dare you interrupt my teatime with such an ill-timed call?!”

“Prin— Riliane… I,” the other girl stuttered, shaky breaths disrupting the line.

“Just spit it out.”

And then Chartette broke down sobbing. “Your brother’s dead. Alexiel’s dead. I am so sorry, Princess—”

She was lying. Riliane knew her all her life, and Chartette was very bad at lying. “You bitch, how dare you jest—”

And then the maid-soldier narrated everything she had learned upon arriving. The body was only found early morning, wearing a yellow kimono; cause of death: multiple stab wounds. _This is my brother they’re talking about, why do they describe him like a thing?_ The killer turned herself in. The victim’s father was also murdered shortly after. _So what?_ Was Chartette reading off a newspaper, that incompetent girl? “His body, oh gods, his body—”

“Let me speak to him.”

“Princess, he’s already gone…!”

“ALLEN! Don’t be a coward and talk to me right this instant!”

“Riliane… p-please, stop, he’s no longer here—”

 _Leave it all to me._ **LIAR.**  “How dare him leave me alone.” He couldn’t even stay alive, the least she had asked of him. A truly low-end copy Allen was, and she hated, hated herself so so much for believing in him. How could a dead man protect her, much more inherit her everything? He promised her, he promised her that he’d return, he promised…

“Riliane, what’s going on? Riliane—?”

The Heavenly Yard’s tilework was scorching under the mid-afternoon sun, it might even be more appropriate to rename it the Hellish Yard. Fitting because she was in hell, and she wasn’t its Master. Michaela had condemned her here, for tainting her, for failing to save her, she was sure of it. “I tried my best to be loyal to you, and yet you weren’t even able to fulfill our promise, my love,” the diva sing-songed, waving a hand missing a finger in front of her eyes. Acid rose up her throat, forcing her to throw up her mid-afternoon meal on her luxurious tiles. Allen’s body, she doesn’t even want to know what happened to it. And yet she could see it clearly, flesh ripped open exposing bone—

“—Chartette, what did you tell her?” Mariam had taken over the phone call in her stead.

If she could, she would have ran to him as she did Michaela. But he was an entire country away, and she knew she couldn’t bear the sight. Where had all her pride gone to? Boasting about beheading, and yet vomiting at these slights… She didn’t know what to do. What would have Arth done?

The silver woman’s warm embrace enveloped her, not a word of consolation spilling from her lips aside from quiet sobs.

“...I want her head. I want Kayo Sudou’s head on a golden platter.”

 

They had left her alone after that horrid news. With that undeserved freedom, Riliane roamed and wandered every nook and cranny of her home in an endless game of hide and seek with her brother. If she was better, more excellent and clever, she was sure she’d find him in this void.

Long ago, in the darkness of these long winding corridors, he had relayed to her a story from Ney. That there was a Lucifenian Mirror, a grand and beautiful mirror built by a god. And according to Ney’s mother, that mirror was eventually broken into four. She scoffed, why, there were only two! Those two were already long gone, too, smashed by her ex-fiance and the other she broke in a fit of rage. But her brother had been telling the truth all along. There were four of them, and now there was only one left: herself. The third mirror, her other half, forever lost and unrecognizable miles away.

That boy wasn’t Allen. Allen wasn’t her brother. His name was… Her brother’s name was…

_I can’t even remember my brother’s name._

And he would no longer be here to correct her.

But there he was, he who looked like him, and also not him. She had once again found herself in that cursed and priceless room, drawn to what her brother could have been had she not cheated him. “Father, is this my punishment?”

Once again, the severed head did not answer.

***

_Anonymous Coast, Lucifenia_

The next month was spent drifting in and out of consciousness, attending board meetings as if nothing had happened, negotiating with Elphegort, murdering enemies, and the like. It was a schedule as tightly engineered as clockwork, every gear and spring wound in place.

However, even the most well-made clockwork rusts and stops and breaks, and so she was here, unsightly as it was, barefoot and alone with not a soul to tell her ‘no’. She owned everything, this whole country, each and everyone and everything here. Too bad the sea was shared with Marlon.

But the memories made on this beach, they would never be shared. They would be hers and hers alone.

With a glass bottle in her fragile hands, she wished and wished that she would be forgiven. Michaela told her the legend, from a play she had performed in, that if you write your wish on parchment and place it a glass bottle, the sea carrying it adrift might grant your wish one day. It was stupid, she had replied. She knew of a god personally, and even he wasn’t able to grant her wishes.

The sea, perhaps… would this body of water even have power to change fate?

“Maybe if you pray enough, it will.”

“Oho? Are you saying that water is more powerful than a god?”

Michaela giggled. “Who knows?” She moved closer to her, their shoulders touching on the sands. She twirled a stray lock of her golden hair around her fingers, and murmured, “I’ve always been meaning to ask, why does this place carry such an interesting name? ‘Anonymous’,” she laughed some more, “common, without name, who would think of that?”

“Then I’d change it for you. Michaela’s Coast, how would that sound?”

Her lover was now clutching her stomach in laughter. “That sounds so silly~!” Wiping her tears, she added, “There’s no need for that. I like it as it is. Not having to live up to some name… that would be nice.”

“But I like your name. It’s yours. It’s lovely.”

She smiled at her. “The Arklow name… My father gave it to me, and it’s been a chain for so long. Still,” she paused and then looked up at the sky, and Riliane felt the tiniest bit envious of the clouds that stole her lover’s green-eyed gaze, “I’m grateful that I could pursue my passion in this country without pulling strings. If I could keep on singing, I’d be truly happy.”

“Your surname, huh?” She intertwined her fingers with Michaela’s. “Well, what would you say if I gave you mine?”

The teal-haired lady was taken aback. “Are you asking me to marry you, love?”

Kissing her hand, Riliane had promised, “When everything’s over with, let’s have our marriage ceremony by the Anonymous Coast.”

“I’d love to.”

Ah, she could see it. A wedding march would play. Michaela would be accompanied by her brother, while Alexiel would be the best man. It would be perfect if it weren’t for the salt getting in her hair and and the sand in between her toes, ugh. Michaela was content with the tiniest of things, so here they were. She would build a cathedral, a religion, just for their wedding, just for her, but her bride wanted a private affair.

“She’s lovely,” her brother would say.

When she sees her, songstress of green, the sea breeze making her veil dance, she would laugh, all first-class problems like sand in her shoes and tangled hair thrown to the winds. “I know.”

“Don’t mess up your vows.”

She would glare at him for that, and then she would smile at Michaela, “I love you.”

Her bride would smile back, “I love you, too,” and their promise would have been fulfilled.

Michaela would tangle her hands in her hair for a loving kiss, and then her nails would feel like cold metal—

—like the muzzle of a gun.

“You and that bitch Marina Barisol should have never been born.”

Ah, she could see it, she would finally see her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhh, finally Pride arc phase one is over! I hope you enjoyed it
> 
>  
> 
> >:3c


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